Year of the Gentleman
by CrownedIahos
Summary: A series of one-shots based off of Ne-Yo's album by the same name. All SS/HG with a little JP/LE and RW/HG mixed in.
1. Track 1 Closer

A/N: This story is driven solely by the songs off of Ne-Yo's 'Year of the Gentleman' album. hence the title. Each chapter is a different story, supported by themselves and connected to each other only by the fact that each is off the aforementioned album. Each chapter is a one-shot, so don't look for connections and don't get confused when the vibe of each chapter shifts between different scenarios. It will all be SS/HG with James and Lily or Ron and Hermione infused, SS before HG because they all are from SS's PoV. Enjoy the story and either buy the CD or listen to it at the site I tout on all my music based stories, www . projectplaylist . com.

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Track 1 - Closer

Surrounded by muggles, loud music, skimpy clothes, and the suffocating smell of liqours, Severus felt open in jeans and a sweater. He avoided the dance floor, opting instead for the bar and it's occupants. A tall blonde with bright brown eyes and a million dollar smile waved him over. He hadn't known she quit her job at Starlight and come here to work at Olympia. He walked over to a regular bartender at the old club he'd frequented when under the service of the Dark Lord.

"Severus, I was wondering when you'd stumble in!" She hollered over the blaring music, fixing his normal Firewhiskey and sliding it to him. He joined her by awkwardly sitting on the high stools, leaning on the bar.

"Melanie. When were you going to tell me you worked here?" He asked, taking a sip of the drink.

She served another patron then winked at him. "You live nearby, I just supposed since the war was over you'd start living there at Spinner's End. I was right, it just took you five years to make it so."

He sipped the special drink, knowing she only served it to him and other wizards. She herself wasn't magical, but her husband was and he was just estatic that she could serve the wizards at the muggle clubs. He worked at the Ministry and helped supply her with things. That was what made her valuable to Severus, and they had grown to be friends after the long years slaving over shipments.

The club was just starting to fill-up and the normal lights were still on, the dark and strobe lights off for now. This drew his attention and he looked to Melanie.

"When are they turning on the lights?"

Melanie, currently digging for some ice and pouring the drink, smiled as she turned her eyes to her watch. She looked at the lights and spoke.

"Five. Four. Three. Two. One." and sure enough the lights quickly started going. As if on cue, more people flooded in, many of them rushing to the dance floor. He turned towards them, downing the rest of his drink.

He eyed the dancers, their movements, and was instantly annoyed. Why had he come here?

A couple hours passed and the smell of sweat reached his nose. He had another drink in his hand, a slack grasp on it as he lifted it to his lips and glanced around the club. He was about to leave, get up and bid Melanie farewell when the oddest thing happened.

The group of dancing muggles parted like the Red Sea and in the center was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Clad in low-cut skin-tight leather pants and a deep red bustier with gold trim, a wild haired brunette swayed almost unnaturally to the music. She became a part of it, like the sheen of light off the surface of the ocean, she reflected the lights and consumed his attention.

He couldn't remember why he held the cup in his hand, why the music should annoy him, why he just didn't belong here. He forgot all the things he'd been meaning to come in here to forget, all the petty excuses to drink and lounge about. He felt himself stand and he heard his logical side mumble something about foolishness, but he could care less. He gulped the last drops of the offensive liquid and left the cup on the bar.

He was drawn forward til he was right next to the gorgeous creature captivating his mind. His hand touched her arm and he felt a fire burst into life, consuming his thinking brain. Without warning, he was writhing along with her, dancing to the atrocious music and relishing in her scent and form.

The song kept going as though it wanted them to stay together like this. He ceased to be in the club, he was alone with this perfect creation of the gods. She seemed to notice his presence and began dancing with him. He couldn't see her face, the lights too dark. Now he wanted the song to end, the DJ's break was bound to come soon. The lights would change then, the dance floor would be depleted long enough for everyone to replenish themselves and get back out.

He sensed the end of the song, the beats were slowing, he was tiring, yet he wasn't tired. He couldn't remember the last time he ever had this much fun. He was pressed up against the woman, his body melded with hers.

_Closer._

The song ended and he joined in the cheers as the DJ mock-bowed and said his peace. The woman turned in his arms smiling and she seemed to want to thank him. Just as he saw her face and she saw his, the recognition dawned. Shocked, he backed away. Her smile faded and she looked equally shocked. He was supposed to be dead, five years the rumors had said his body had been stolen, four of those years the Potter boy looked for it. Four years he'd been using that said body keeping away from him. Only this year had the boy given up, his friends convincing him finally that his newly beloved Potions Master was indeed lost.

He'd read the papers, seen the articles. Only those he trusted ever knew he was truly alive and those gifted few kept it a secret. Now one of the boy's closest friends had seen him. He turned and made his exit, running out of sight and earshot of the muggles, he headed up the alley behind the club.

Just as he looked around for anyone, the girl came around the corner.

"Always running...."she mumbled, her booted feet clicking along the black top.

Slightly taken aback, his eyes narrowed and he drew himself up for a vicious rebuke and warning. Before he could speak, she had caught up with him and shook her head.

"Severus Snape, you ruddy bastard, we've been looking for you! Hiding out in muggle clubs and dancing with random people....no wonder we couldn't find you." Her voice had matured since last he heard it, she seemed to be a real woman now. This frightened him, the knowledge that he had danced and very briefly fantasized about this person.

"Miss Granger, it seems you haven't changed, still influenced by those dunderheads."

She brushed a few hairs out of her face, grinning from ear to ear. "Rightly so. If they hadn't told me to loosen up, we might not have met tonight."

Sighing as he spoke, he sneered at her. "And you think I enjoy the fact that we met?"

She placed a hand on his forearm, the feelings it made causing him to stare at her. She continued as though she wasn't effected by it.

"You should. How many days have you spent in clubs seeking company? I'm not a fool as you should know." She looked down at her feet then back at him. "I knew you were alive...I told them."

The closeness they shared at this moment physically set him off track. He was supposed to be running, but he couldn't bring himself to move. The emotion in her eyes confused him, was that for him?

"I told them you lived. All this while they looked for a body, I looked for a person." Happily, yet sadly, she looked into his eyes. "And I found him, I found you. I used to think like them, that I'd seen you die. I knew it wasn't so...."

He couldn't help it, she drew him in. The emotion she displayed, the touch of her hand on his arm, the sound of her voice ringing in his ears. He leaned forward and kissed her. The feel of her lips was ten times better than the feel of her hand. When he pulled back, she blinked at him.

"Well, um....yes, I..." She laughed shyly. "I should...um, go." She backed away, her arms swinging at her sides.

She couldn't leave, she had to say something else, say she wasn't completely disgusted by him. Not her, the vile yet somehow glorious creature in front of him.

He opened his mouth to speak, but only a hopeful goodbye left his lips.

"Til we meet again....?"

She smiled slightly and nodded, turning and disappearing around the corner.

* * *

A/N: Chapter One completed, though it seemed to take forever. Next chapter...


	2. Track 2 Nobody

A/N: It is incredibly exhausting to wrestle with a Muse. Stubborn and flighty, I imagine they see no reason to stay near me so I can update within a reasonable time limit with a passable chapter at best. Foolish creature had me running 'round inside my own head, with a net like Spongebob has to catch jellyfish, knocking over valuable keepsakes and breaking a few of my patience bubbles. I pinned him down this morning, blasted thing, and wrangled an oath out of him. He'll stay around long enough to update three of my pending stories, then he'll probably forget the oath and disappear like stars when the sun is out. *sigh* Without further explanation as to why it took me so long and a hasty apology for my Muse, *grabs him by the collar and holds him for everyone to see, he grins despite the compromising position and waves*, I offer you a new chapter. I will update MoW and Rearranging as soon as I am able, might take a day, but it'll happen I assure you. *glares at my Muse, he grins again and sits at a desk identical to mine, picking up a feathered purple gel pen, of all things, and begins to write.*

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Track 2 - Nobody

Christmas. The holiday when family members, both Christian and otherwise, gather with each other to celebrate a joyous occasion. The halls are filled with garland, the doorways with mistletoe, little angels float along in the hall, thrumming harps and smiling gently. Happiness abounds, laughter fills rooms, and the overall feel is Christmas. Red and green are favored, but white and gold seem to be taking hold as well. The trees outside seem to resemble the beginnings of the frosty image of songs sung a million times. With the prospect of presents, and many grumbled thanks for things unwanted, the cheery atmosphere would warm anyone's heart. Surely amongst the joy and happiness there couldn't be one person who was blue?

Christmas, the damnable holiday when all his nightmares seem to exist all at once. Seeing as he had no family, aside from one person who was otherwise occupied at the moment, he could hardly find this holiday anything but tormenting. He stalked the halls, glaring at the green growth seemingly popping right out of the stone. He avoided the middle of the hall, where unsuspecting teens were caught in the magical grasp of the Headmaster's infernal creations. They would reluctantly kiss and then run off, red-faced and embarrassed, for their next class. He was aggravated by the _pling-pling_ sound of those silly harps, the gargoyle-ish abominations wielding them sneering unpleasantly, their loose-fitting red and white outfits revealing entirely too much of their wrinkly grey-green skin. The grating laughter he heard from up the hall made him stalk up to the unaware group, handing out detentions and lost House points for nothing more but being merry.

As he approached the Great Hall, hoping against hope to see the face he came all this way for, he sighed dejectedly that she wasn't here. There was only one more place to look, seeing as he'd checked all her hide-outs. Her quarters, which couldn't be called a hide-out because he had access, the little room behind the third set of armor in the fifth floor corridor, the tree he had gladly renamed as her tree-all bad memories nearly forgotten, the Great Hall where she would have lengthy conversations with student and teacher alike. Yes, only one place left.

He turned to that hall, growling at the seeming over-abundance of devilish devices laid out like landmines. Taking a deep breath and gathering what little amount of tolerance he had left, he dove into the foray, aiming his compass at the library.

* * *

He got there out of breath, his hand over his heart at the near-miss that was his brush with death. He'd almost got stuck kissing Trelawney...he shuddered. Good thing that oblivious fourth year was standing so close. It almost seemed wrong to condemn another to that fate, but he had other things to contend with, disregarding the obvious need to get out of the booby-trapped halls.

Her face was the first thing he saw. That beautiful glowing face of the only real angel in his world. Now, and only now, did he finally feel the stupid urge to grin like a fool and dance to the offending song on the radio. It was all he could do not to enact the moving pictures this very person had shown him. He made his way past the empty tables and left open books Pince would be ten times angrier than normal about. As he glanced quickly at the desk, he saw Pince must have trusted the library to her, at least long enough to catch a bite of the scrumptous-or so he'd been told-chocolate cake.

"Hermione." he sighed with enormous relief. The search for her was turning desperate as he was too proud to admit he'd lost his own wife.

She looked up from the book she was engrossed in, adjusting herself in the chair to see him as she set the book on the nearest table. She smiled the smile he'd only see her give him, it warmed his heart to know she had specialized even her face for him alone.

"What's wrong, love? You look a fright." she asked, standing and touching his shoulder.

"A slight battlefield run, nearly died by way of Trelawney."

She mock-pouted for him. Taking him into her arms, he had to bend to press his face to her chest like a babe. But he didn't mind, this was his place, only he could reside here. In her arms lay his own sanctuary, his own haven from the evil outside world.

"Well, it didn't happen, so breathe and calm down. I thought something was really wrong."

He felt offense that she didn't see the disasterous effects that would have followed such a particular torture. He'd have had nightmares for weeks, unable to even eat at the staff table and then he'd have to keep an eye out in the halls lest he see her, blinding himself at staff meetings so as not to catch her eye.

"I nearly lost my life out there, show a little compassion." he chided, trying and failing to keep a straight face. As dire as the events that had nearly unfolded outside were, he couldn't lie that he'd taken it a bit far concerning his reaction. What was he, some sniveling second year?

Yes, around her he'd admit, even to himself, he was reverted many years. The war seemed like a very distant memory, as it rightly was.

"Compassion is to be saved for _after_ the Christmas party, dear....not before."

He winced. No. She didn't really expect him to go through that...no...she couldn't.

"Yes, Severus. You will attend that party if I have to charm you into your dress robes and Imperious you into the Great Hall."

"Resorting to breaking laws, Hermione? How Slytherin of you."

She smirked at him, glancing side-long at the clock. "I do what I must to get my husband where he should be. Now, let's go. The party is in three hours. I'm glad you came to get me, else I'd never be ready in time."

He followed behind her, watching her hips sway in the most illegal of ways. He shook his head. She didn't need three hours to make herself beautiful. He'd ravage her right here if she didn't punish him for a week like she had last Christmas. Oh, that woman was the worst, yet he knew, as he held the door open for her, she was the world's best.

* * *

The party was jumping as he made his way down. She had taken off before he could ask her to approve his dress. He sighed like a put-upon child in her quarters before making his way to the hell that awaited him.

His first destination was the punch table, then to find her and hold onto her like a life-preserver as she waded through the bodies to be chapperone and then party girl. She was most desirable when she danced. He avoided the mistletoe, wishing they were back in his chambers, celebrating Christmas his way.

* * *

He hated searching for her, and he had been doing that for the past hour. He was sitting at one of the tables, the seventh years who had decided to stay sitting at the same table. They avoided his glares, laughing with each other instead. He must have been pouting, his bottom lip stuck out further than his nose, because they gasped and got up to dance. He watched them leave, happy he finally got them to go. As he followed them with his eyes, they were side-tracked again.

He had finally found her, dancing with an all too eager Letharus Mitchell, the new Muggle Studies teacher. Anger drove him to stand and toss back the offending red liquid that had been solidifying in his cup since his second search had begun. He sneered his way past the students, tapping old Letharus on the shoulder.

"May I?" he hissed.

The man had the nerve to grin shamelessly.

"You have the most wonderful wife, Severus. Just marvelous. She had the most interesting details about the way planes fly and--"

"Yes, yes. As interesting as what you have to say is, Mitchell, I would appreciate it if you allowed me to dance with _my _wife. I need to resubmerge myself in her, how did you put it, _marvelous_ presence." Deftly moving in his place, Severus smirked at the man. "Excuse us, if you will." and he turned them into the crowd.

He felt it coming before her mouth opened. "Really, Severus. There was no need. He was being nice is all."

He scoffed, dipping her and then twirling her. "I suppose it's just a past-time for you to socialize with other men. What a wife..."

She stopped dancing and he backtracked. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that at all."

She frowned at him. Then, without so much as a word, she turned and left the room. He cried silently in frustration and inward punishment.

_Damn it, Severus. Always making her upset. You'd think you didn't love her._

He shoved through the crowd, knowing exactly where she'd go. He skipped past the pillars and out onto the grassy lawn of the grounds. He sped past the couples in bushes, they were the last thing on his mind. He found her crying next to her tree, her gown puddled around her knees. She had fallen against the tree, one hand holding her up, the other covering her face. It wasn't exactly snowy right now, though it was snowing. The bright sun had melted what little they had earlier and the sky was trying to make up for it in the night. He stepped forward and the grass was crisp and cold, breaking under his boots. She must have been freezing. He pulled off his cloak, wrapping her in it as he hugged her.

A little silence began his apology. His mind was working fast.

_Say something, you dolt. She doesn't need time to dwell, make her forget, make her forgive._

"Hermione...." he purred, using the voice that always lit her eyes up. "Hermione, my love, forgive me....please. I didn't mean it and you know it."

She turned in his arms. Her look hurt his very core.

"You always say that, Severus. Always making me forgive you. Why don't you just stop doing things that need forgiving?"

He sighed, his chin on her chest, his arms around her waist, and kissed her softly. His hands rose to wipe at her tears, lingering on her cheeks.

"I don't know....I never know...But you know I...you know that I..." he could never get himself to say those stupid words. He was losing, he knew it. She pushed him away, standing. He couldn't let her walk away. Not until he'd taken back what he'd said.

"Severus--" she began. The finality in her gaze wretched it out of him in a near exclamation.

"I love you!!" he yelped, his hand outstretched towards her, trying to force her back into his arms. She paused, confusion invading her features.

"What...what did you say?" her voice was on the verge of tears. Maybe he had a chance. It got so much easier to say after the first time.

The words flowed out like her name. "I love you, Hermione. Gods above, I love you. I wouldn't have married you, made love to you, held you in my arms if that were not true. Please, I didn't mean what I said, I only lashed out at you. I have always been possessive, this you know. He enraged me, touching you like that. Believe, I would never willingly hurt you, stupid slip-ups aside. There is no one in the world for me besides you, Hermione. Nobody."

She blinked back tears as she stared at him. She pulled his cloak closer to her, gazing at him as though she'd never seen him before.

"Say it again." she ordered, stepping nearer to him.

"I love you." he supplied.

"Again." she commanded, touching his chest.

He barely got the words out before she kissed him.

"I love--" he held her, happy he had succeeded in making her come back. She pulled away.

"Nobody."

* * *

A/N: I sort of diverted from the original path, but I got what I wanted from this song. I couldn't help making this, the idea formed just seconds after I caught my Muse, and nothing would make it fit into what I wanted, so here we are. Hope you enjoyed it. REVIEW!!! XOXOXXOX


	3. Track 3 Single

Track 3 - Single

_Was it possible to be surrounded by complete idiots all of the time? Surely in one minute of the 525,600 in the year there was a small chance of spending it around someone with a brain? Surely._

He huffed once more as the woman behind the desk mechanically told him for the fifth time, "Take a number and wait for your name to be called."

He stamped down the urge to roll his eyes, Severus Snape never rolled his eyes. He stepped past the ropes and sat once again in the uncomfortable plastic chairs in the waiting room. He was here in the Ministry attempting to acquire the deed to a nice plot forty or so miles from Spinner's End. Since his need to be a teacher was no longer a need and no leader could use it to their own gain, he had decided to open a potions store. Since his trial, where the insufferable Trio had spoken in his defense, he needn't worry about foolish prejudices.

He hated public areas, people standing or sitting as he was, shoulder to shoulder with annoying strangers which did nothing but make the lines long. He looked to his left to see a tall, thin, stick of a man eyeing his number card and then his own. He bared his teeth to the man, then hid his card.

There was a short, pudgy wizard with yellowed teeth holding onto his cane as though he feared attack, standing next to a buxom....man, with press-on nails and a glossy pink wig. The wigged man/woman was laughing with the equally confused male next to him/her. Further down that line for the desk, there was a squib by the looks of him, carrying a box that emitted high pitch sounds at varying intervals.

As he yanked his cloak out from under what he imagined to be a troll, he heard the oddest thing. It sounded like singing, a light-hearted lilting voice from somewhere around the corner. He could distinctly hear what sounded like laughter at the words spoken by the voice. He sat up, the room, which had been unbearably loud with the chattering and moving around, quieting to almost silence to his ears.

He seemed to remember the words coming from a completely different source, someone on the radio, someone famous. But the source he heard it from now, it didn't sound too bad, though the song...hmm, he'd have to allow just for the voice. He stood and approached the ballroom some ways down the long almost silent corridor, drawn by the happier, more receptive gathering. As he stepped in the ballroom, the vaulted ceiling that seemed to stretch to the heavens brightly blinded him from seeing the craftsmanship.

He blinked and wrapped his cloak tighter around himself, out of place in his traveling clothes. He weaved his way around the crowds, absentmindedly looking for an open seat. When he found one that was unmarked he slid into it, watching the performer on the stage. She looked oddly familiar.

"_Oh, my poor heart, where has it gone?_

_It's left me for a spell._

_Flicked your wand, it said "So long!",_

_I hardly knew I fell_

_'Cause you cast a spell I didn't see,_

_You charmed the heart right out of me!"_

At the applause he broke out of the singer's own spell, closing his mouth which had taken to an unsuitable gape. He adjusted in his seat, clearing his throat and watching as the woman stepped from the stage, a wide smile and a small laughing jerk coming from her. As she hugged a somewhat tall, dark-haired male who had sat next to a lovely flaming red haired beauty, he seemed to receive memory again. No wonder she looked familiar, they all looked familiar.

By Merlin, he'd been admiring the Know-It-All. He shook his head, prepared to trudge back to the waiting room, but the group must have felt his eyes, because the Potter boy, who'd grown up since last they'd met, walked over to him, grinning.

"Professor Snape, it's been awhile." said the boy...man, the obnoxious scar still a signal of old times. His hand was out for a shake, which he stared at questioningly.

"Yes, though I must say I could have waited a lifetime. Your turn to sing perhaps?" he said silkily.

The man had the nerve to smile, retracting his hand. "No, but each new guest must at least sing something. It's a time of celebration, the induction of the new Aurors. Kingsley thought it'd be fun."

Something akin to horror rippled through him, he was actually frightened. There was no way in hell they were getting him on that stage. No way.

"Oh," said Potter as he began to walk away. "The Aurors put up a temporary binding spell on the archway to this ballroom. And don't look at me like that, it wasn't me! I suffered too, Professor, I had to sing the Weird Sisters 'Do the Hippogriff' and Hermione had to do Celestina Warbeck's 'You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me', which you seemed to like."

The damnable boy had a smirk on his face. Oh, what a little hex wouldn't hurt. Just a little flick...._Not in a crowded room!,_ his instinct told him, _Especially not surrounded by Aurors. Calm down. They might not even call you--_

"Well, folks, we are in for a treat. Having enjoyed and on some occasions, endured, the various karaoke preformers tonight, I bet we can last for one more bout of dancing. Our next preformer will be singing," He checked the glowing blue sphere that lingered to his left, flashing yellow words. "First Kiss Dementor's new hit, 'Jekyll-Hyde'." He seemed to think for a moment, then shrugged. "Gather your ears and clap your hands for the one, the only, Severus Snape!"

The sound of his name from the Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt's mouth almost gave him a heart attack. He had to go through a quick self-evaluation to reassure himself he was alive, for surely he must have reached a new level of hell.

The crowd, which had gone silent at his name, was now vigorously clapping, cheering him along. He stood, ready to run as fast as humanly possible to the exit, but Potter took his right elbow and Granger, in a rather fitting, shimmery burgandy dress that dipped in the neckline, grasped his left. They steered him away from the exits and to the stage. Gods, he didn't want to make a scene, but he couldn't do this. He didn't even know if he could sing.

He was in front of the mike stand before he could come up with something suitable to say. A rock band's music began in the background and he was horrified to realize the binding the Aurors had put on the doorway urged him to sing. His own voice startled him as it sang the glowing yellow words that faded to red when he'd sang them.

"_I've got an hourglass,_

_but it doesn't keep time._

_Not when it's the last_

_thing to cross my mind._

_I count the hands by sight,_

_watching my grip on him fade._

_I want to reign with might,_

_but my weak excuses stay unmade..."_

The beat picked up, the drums and guitar gearing up to a quick beat. He felt like his mouth was not his own, going against his will to sing to this crowd of vultures. His hand might have been someone else's holding the curved metal of the old-timey mike stand, his lips held back from touching the mike only by the fact that he neither knew, nor cared, how many mouths had been on it before him.

_"Maybe it's better to fear._

_Maybe it's right to kneel_

_maybe you should try it_

_before you accuse me of dealing_

_dealing with the other side._

_The truth?, "I try so hard--", I lied_

_I'm Mr. Jekyll-Hyde."_

The crowd of dancers who had overcome their shock had congregated on the dance floor, dancing to the song he sang, but knew nothing of. Knowing he had no choice, he tried his hardest not to look like a fool, the binding spell keeping his hand stuck on the microphone.

_"I want to hold my sanity close by_

_I want so much to control_

_I want to make amends, try_

_I allow my heart and soul_

_to run away with us_

_the poison is running our system_

_patience gone, but we must--_

_no, no longer we--but me, now him--not them..."_

He repeated the chorus, forcing his burning cheeks back to pale, which wasn't too hard when he caught sight of Granger gaping at him like a fish. He cursed every person in the room, cursed the floor and the ceiling, the lights and the floating lyric ball by his head, which he turned his eyes back to. Why did he come to this room? What on earth possessed him to do it? His mind ran through ways to kill every single last one of them without being caught or jailed.

When the song changed to a menacing growl, he forced the real emotions into it, trying to convey to the idiots standing around that he was going to murder every last one of them.

_"We merge, all alone_

_my brother, my own_

_I am Mr. Hyde to you_

_but Mr. Hyde is Jekyll too..._

_Oh! Oh!"_

As the chorus repeated twice, he begged for it to end, though he'd never admit to anyone that he found the song catchy. He pulled at the mic, his fingers slowly coming loose. The song as well as the spell was ending. He sang out the last words, like a warning, ready to lash his wand at all the cheering witnesses.

_"I'm Jekyll--Ah! Ah!_

_and I'm Hyde--Oh! Oh!_

_and there isn't a single_

_thing left of my mind!"_

As he yanked his hand free from the offending metal, he pulled out his wand, ready to kill Shacklebolt first. But suddenly, distractingly, the entire room erupted in cheers, sending him off point.

The first person he saw was Granger, the form-fitting red mermaid-like dress flipping around her shins. She grabbed his hand, making her way out of the crowd and out the door, she smiled as she saw the people start talking to themselves about his preformance. His back was still slightly tingling from the claps on the back he'd gotten from the crowd. He'd have to crawl into a hole and die.

Granger made sure no one was around and then gave him a small hug. She held him at arms length.

"I told Harry you were brave. I almost broke down. I'm sorry you had to go through that, but it's nice to see you again."

He stared at her in shock. "Nice to---what? Are you under some spell, Miss Granger?"

She shook her head. "No, sir. I'm just fine, but someone has to grow up. It's Hermione by the way, if you don't mind. I will never forget that preformance...First Kiss Dementor is my favorite band. I run the Law Enforcement Department now, you should stop by. Every Friday is Lasagna night, and we can bring guests. It's fun...and you...you might like it. Just," She eyed him for a second,  
"keep that in mind. Now," she peeked into the ballroom then back at him. "don't be a stranger."

He couldn't understand it, she was treating him like a normal person, like an equal instead of a social pariah. He watched her as though from afar. She smiled again, her face almost glowing as she looked at him. She was so much older, he could barely see the Granger girl she had been. She gave him another small hug, touched his cheek with the back of her right hand, then went back inside the ballroom.

He stared after her, in an almost petrified state, until the squeaky voice of the evil woman behind the desk called his number and name.

"Two thirty-five, Snape, Two thirty-five!"

He glanced at Mis--Hermione once more, then walked to the crowded room for his meeting. He'd see her again. Perhaps Lasagna wasn't so bad.

* * *

A/N: The song Hermione sings is, of course, the lovely Celestina Warbeck, with lines 3-6 added by yours truly. The song Severus sings is of my own creation, and is totally mine. The band _First Kiss Dementor_, is another creation, something I thought a rock band would call themselves. Hope you enjoyed, please, as always, Review!!


	4. Track 4 Mad

A/N: This chapter has upped the rating for language reasons. Knida belated, but hey, I did add it!!!

* * *

Track 4 - Mad

They were where they had begun, arguing senselessly over a silly nothing that shouldn't have even come up. This is how they had come to be married and he had come to believe their marriage was based off of it. She stood in their kitchen, by the jet black granite island, her gloriously curly hair flying every which-a-way. Her hands were connected to her hips, until at one point she had pointed a finger at him. She had just come back from the grocery store, getting things for the little lunch they were having the next day.

Jeans and a black t-shirt, his second anniversary gift around her neck, and her twenty-eighth birthday gift in her ears, she looked comprised of things he had given her. The bag of goods lay forgotten on the table in the background, the lamp above it swinging from breeze the window he had opened to access the little hide-away he had created for them last year was allowing, sending odd shapes across the open bookcases that separated the dining room from the living room.

He was in his normal gray cotton t-shirt and silk pajamas she had gotten him last Christmas. Everything around them and on them were little reminding beacons that spoke of times when she wasn't staring at him in anger, when he wasn't defending himself from her attack. When she opened her mouth again, he spoke softly.

"Stop." His voice sounded tired, as he was. Screaming at her was exhausting, mostly because he found no pleasure in it. She turned from him, methodically putting away the groceries. He wanted to say something, take back all the foolish, hurtful things he had said to her. She had to be on the verge of tears, she always was after their fights. And for months he had let the arguments remain unfinished. He didn't know why. It wasn't something he fully understood, he had attempted to understand it, and failed every time.

She had finished the unbagging and stuffed the empty bags into a cubby-hole. She looked him up and down, then quietly spoke.

"I'm going to bed."

She began towards the room and he hesitated before following. He closed the window and stepped into the room. She was peeling off her top when he stepped in, her creamy flesh revealed to the low light in the room. She seemed to be ignoring him, or she simply didn't think he was in the room. He memorized every curve, every dip. The little hooded snake she had tattooed to her left hip after their wedding. He had a little paw print on his right hip, and when they stood side-by-side the two tattoos melded into one.

She unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor next to the discarded shirt. She knew how he hated clothes on the floor. He remembered waking up in the lean muscled curve of her lower back, where it rose to a plump bottom. He had mapped out every freckle, knew every scar or blemish.

He loved her more than words could possibly express. He was devoted to her every heart beat as though they fueled his own. Yet no matter how fierce his love, there was always something, always some reason to fight....it was becoming more than he could bear.

* * *

When she had come home, hands full, he was about to ask if she wanted to have a drink out on the little nook, he'd planned it all out. A nice romantic evening, a reconnecting, he was going to forgive everything she had said in past arguments on the terms that she forgive him and they start over. But the first thing she had said to him was, as clearly as though she'd said it just now:

"Planning on leaving me?"

He had been taken aback, his outstretched hands to help her with the bags being ignored. He had confusedly frowned and watched her as she set her brown and black bags on the wood and leather high chair, her keys in the catch-all. What was that supposed to mean?

"What are you talking about, Mia?" He asked, stumped onto how he had offended her. Last he'd seen her today was at breakfast when he'd made a perfect omelet without being asked. He thought over their entire conversation, from the arranging of the lunch they were having to the new drapes she wanted to get. There was the small remark about having mail, but he thought that a normal couple's topic.

She narrowed her eyes, shrugging off her vintage jacket and setting it on the back of the high chair. She fixed him with a stare he'd seen last week, when he'd burnt the souffle' by accident.

"Oh, don't use pet names. I saw the letter from Gaston Garnier of the," She more or less spat the next words. "_Grand Society of Acclaimed Potions and their Makers."_

He closed his eyes, she wasn't even going to let him explain what that was about, his index and thumb found their second home on the bridge of his nose.

"Bet you thought I didn't know, bet you thought I was _so_ naive I didn't know anything the _great _Snape was doing. You self-righteous bastard!"

"Good God, Mia, I haven't been able to say anything on my own behalf and you're already calling names?! What is your problem?"

Oooo, wrong question. He knew it even as it slid past his teeth and out of his lips. The argument had begun.

"_My_ problem?! I'm not the one running away for three months! _Three_ months?!" her voice rose, and in anger so did his.

"Brazil?!" He shot back, unbelieving of her attack. _Running away? _She'd gone off to Brazil for two weeks without consulting him, off with a bunch of misfit hunters to get this ancient artifact for some collector. He'd been stuck at home, worried sick, unable to sleep, confused and hurt. She had come home dirty and dizzy, talking nonsense about a cave and some monsters and how they had more than enough money for the year because of this item. He had angrily snapped at her, making her realize the disorganization of the house, his ruffled state and wild-eyed stare. She had told him to grow-up. Oh, he had been mad at her for weeks. She wanted to go into that? She wanted to supply him with arsenal in an argument that even the sun setting couldn't end?

She scoffed, her hand going to her belted hip again. "Very original. That was four years ago!!"

He growled. "Yes, original. My _every_ thought on this trip is original. For once I don't have to listen to you bark on about some poor fucking sod in Manchester who can't survive without some shitty piece of ancient artistry!"

She gasped. "My job does not deal with _poor_ fucking sods or shitty artistry. But I'm sure you job covers that."

_Oh, the little wench!_ He nearly rolled his eyes.

"Oh, don't pretend to have any idea what it takes to make potions, you twit!! I have to drag myself through the mud just to teach you anything. You are a stupid, self-centered, attention-whore who I should've never married!!"

She looked pained for a moment, then she blinked, scrunched her face and whispered softly, "I _hate_ you."

* * *

He watched as she turned around and slipped off her pants and red undies, standing naked before him. He regretted their entire conversation, he regretted it, even before it started. How to say it though? He was never good at that part. The strike he had down, the soothe?, not so much. He touched her bare side, the one with the tattoo. She shivered against his cool hand. He laid his head on her shoulder, pulling her to him and sighing. She stood there like a stone, refusing to surrender to his touch. He turned his head to her neck and kissed it, sighing once more.

"I'm sorry, Mia. I meant none of what I said. I know you do what you do because you love it and that's one of the many reasons I love you. I know for a fact that you've been with no other than me, I took you right on that bed on out honeymoon. You, as the Hogwarts records, and my own personal experience dictates, are one of the most brilliant women to ever grace the face of the earth and I am a damn lucky man to have you to myself. The happiest moment in my life was when I married you. The only reason I'm alive is because you love me....but, lately, I feel like I'm dying....like you aren't mine anymore."

She gave some, leaning into his chest. He kissed her lightly again, hugging her. "I'm not going to France....I was going to tell you tonight. I sent them a declination. They were disappointed, but understood my reasons. You seemed so worried when I mentioned going somewhere far that I couldn't leave you."

She turned in his arms, gazing into his eyes. "You know I am always yours. That was in my vows, I swore that to you, I would never betray you, I care for you too much. I love you as you know...you can't be dying."

He nodded slowly, his forehead resting against hers. "I couldn't bear hurting you again, but with every argument I do just that. I hurt you and abuse you, attacking you like an enemy. But you're my only ally. If I lost you, I'd be lost. I am but the sheep in the pasture and you are my shephard, love."

She looked down, avoiding his eyes. She had something to say, he always knew when she did. She would avoid his eyes, then curiously look up. He lifted her face with his lips, kissing her. When she broke away, she blurted something out so fast he didn't catch it.

"What?" he mumbled with a slight laugh. She took a breath and he kissed her again. Laughing slightly, she pressed against his chest.

"I'm pregnant!" she giggled, looking down again.

He felt his eyes open wide, then he lifted her up and spun her around, kissing her vigorously. "For how long? When? How'd you find out? Am I the first to know? Boy or girl? Does it matter? We need another room, right? What about names? Are we ready? Am _I _ready? Are _you_ ready?" He couldn't stop the flow of conversation. He was almost on fire with emotion, he was so excited.

He took a breath and hugged her again, taking her to the bed. He was wound so tight he thought he'd break. "I'll make dinner, you just stay right there. And don't move."

He stepped out of the room, then stepped back in, pointing his finger at the bed where she was. "Stay."

As he yanked the food out of the fridge, he almost started to cry. He was gonna be a father...he was gonna be a father. As he thought this mantra, he vowed never to argue with her again....never.

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A/N: I am on a roll!!! I might just finish this by the end of May and then I can start on one based solely off Disturbed's Indestructible. Or....you know, something like that....I'm always open for suggestions!!!*wink* I love everything and you must love me too, so please, please, please Review!! XOXOXXO


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